


Blue Eyes

by coveredbyroses



Series: Birthday Drabbles 2018 [28]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark, F/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 02:33:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17194856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredbyroses/pseuds/coveredbyroses
Summary: Michael indulges.





	Blue Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> *Trigger Warnings for Non-Con

Michael cringes as he swallows the coffee, feels the bitter-hot surge of liquid down his new throat, feels it settle into his new stomach. Disgusting, he thinks, and humans drink this daily? He takes another sip, new green eyes scanning his surroundings, taking in the scattering of the java-slurping crowd. Some are neatly dressed; pressed shirts, skirts, and slacks––and some are the exact embodiment of slob; mussed hair, wrinkled sweats, and oversized shirts.

It’s mostly quiet in the quaint coffeehouse, the atmosphere thick with the aroma of roasted coffee beans. There’s a faint chattering of hushed, mingling voices, and a dim clacking of fingertips on keyboards.

He doesn’t have to do this, of course. But he has to blend, has to disappear into nothing before he can start his mission; his work.

He can feel her eyes from across the room, and he tenses a little, thinks maybe she’s a hunter. But when he lets his gaze flicker to hers, he knows she isn’t. She’s too soft, too small. All hunters have a darkness, blood-crusted memories that never fail to reach the surface. Sometimes it’s in the eyes, there’s a little permanent glassy glaze to them; other times it’s in the expression, flesh covered facial muscles that can’t seem to untense, even when they’re smiling.

She’s got none of that, just the sickly-sweet innocence of a human that doesn’t know better, that thinks she’s admiring one of her own, doesn’t know her own kind is buried deep underneath archangel grace. Doesn’t know she’s ogling a defenseless vessel.

Dean’s awake though. Michael makes sure of it. He can feel the pulsing, seething rage of him deep inside, can feel the heat of the hunter’s fury. It’s a nice feeling, satisfying.

Michael smiles Dean’s perfect smile.  _Blend_   _in_. She drops her eyes, blushes. He feels his cock––Dean’s cock––stir to life. Michael smirks, even now the Winchester can’t control his urges. He looks away, tries not to roll his eyes. He’s never copulated before, especially not with a human––but he’s dealt with the physical…annoyances of human arousal. Most of the time he can simply will them away, however there have times he’s had to…take matters into his own hands, so to speak. Just a mindless jerk and pull of skin on skin to cease the throbbing ache.

He thinks of his mission, thinks of Heaven, thinks of tar-bitter coffee—but he continues to swell underneath his tailored slacks.

He can’t push it down.

 _Fine_ , he thinks,  _This_   _could_   _be_   _fun_. He sets his half-drunk coffee cup down and stands, lets his borrowed fingertips glide along the polished curve of the table as he walks.

He eases himself into the empty chair in front of her, sets his forearms on the table and leans into it.

“I’m Dean,” he says, sweet. She blushes.

She invites him into her tiny apartment, so trusting—humanity’s greatest flaw.

He hears Dean thundering deep inside, can feel the furious energy thrumming through him. It almost makes him twitch.

Michael’s painfully hard now. Blood and grace surging through his—Dean’s—solid cock.

She screams when he gets a hand around her throat, fingers bruising against the narrow column of her neck. It’s too easy to get her on the sofa— _such_   _a_ _weak_   _little_   _thing_ —even easier to wrench her panties and leggings down past her knees. She fights hard, but she’s at a disadvantage with her pants around her shins, and Michael easily wedges his way in between her knees.

She screams again when he shoves himself inside, but falls silent when his eyes glow blue.

“What the hell are you?!”

Michael smiles.

“I’m your savior.”


End file.
